Page 81 of Mafia Prince

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“Do you have someone to drive you home?” I asked.

“Marco told us to stay here.” I snorted at her words. One way in which Sasha and I differed was that I didn’t give a shit what my husband said. She was more subservient than I was. While Marco might be able to order me around in the bedroom, I wasn’t going to allow him to do so in other aspects of my life.

I spotted Alex walking towards us, and I let out a small sigh of relief. I’d been a Blanchi for a month, but I didn’t know who was one of ours and who was an enemy.

“Thank God,” I muttered when Alex was in front of us. I pushed Sasha forward slightly. “Sasha needs you to drive her home.”

“Dom didn’t give you a driver?”

I hadn’t thought about that, but what I did know was that Sasha needed to be around people who were going to protect her and keep her calm. “You should take her home.”

Alex shook his head. “I can’t leave you. I’m your protection.”

I rolled my eyes. “We are at a cocktail party,” I reminded him. “Not a war zone. I’ll be fine.”

Alex looked like he wanted to argue, but I wasn’t going to give him the chance. “Here,” I said, shoving Sasha towards him slightly. “Take care of her.”

There was a beat where I was sure that he was going to argue with me, but then, he gave me a swift nod, told Sasha to follow him, and left. When he did, I breathed out a sigh of relief. It was clear to me that Sasha needed to leave the party as soon as possible. I didn’t blame her. I knew what it was like to have difficult family situations.

Sighing, I started walking around the party admiring the house. It was a beautiful Manhattan brownstone with old world charm. The type of house that I always imagined belonged to politicians or celebrities.

I walked from room to room trying not to feel self-conscious as I admired the artwork on the walls. A month ago, I wouldn’t have fathomed being somewhere like this. Even now, it felt odd. That night in the alleyway when Marco killed Adrian, I’d been at my wits end. I hadn’t known what to do next. Now, I was dressed in a dress that cost more than I made at the club, and I was married to one of New York’s most dangerous men.

In some ways, marrying Marco had changed my life for the better. I smiled at that thought and shook my head slightly at the craziness of it. Sometimes, when I thought about what led me here, I felt like a terrible person.

A man was dead, and I barely thought about him. I wanted to say that I couldn’t allow myself to think about it, but in truth, I simply didn’t want to. If I thought too much, I would have to admit that I wasn’t living in some Cinderella fairytale story.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” a deep voice called from behind me. I turned around, startled that someone was talking to me.

Standing behind me was an older man, probably in his sixties, wearing a dark brown suit. He was handsome in a salt and pepper kind of way and was staring at me with amusement in his eyes.

“It’s a very interesting piece.” I assumed he was talking about the painting I’d been staring at for the better part of ten minutes.

“It’s a Pollack,” he said. “First piece of art that I ever purchased.”

I gulped as I put two and two together. Standing next to me was Maksim Ivanov, the new Pakhan of the Bratva, which I’d learned from Marco was what the Russian mafia was called. For a moment, I panicked. Marco assured me that I wouldn’t be meeting the Pakhan tonight. In fact, he’d been adamant about it, soI hadn’t worried. Now though, I wondered what protocol was when meeting the most dangerous man in New York city.

“You looked surprised to see me,” he said, a chuckle in his voice. “Odd considering that you are in my home standing in my study.”

I looked around the room. Sure enough, we were standing in an empty room which was paneled with dark wood. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about where I was going.”

Maksim shrugged slightly. His face,weathered and wrinkled, but still handsome, looked amused. “Are you a lover of art, Mrs. Blanchi?”

I couldn’t see my face, but I’m sure that all of the color fled from it as I wondered how he knew who I was. “I don’t know painters well, but I know what I like.” I was trying to be nonchalant. I knew men like Maksim. They’d come into Red’s occasionally, flaunting their wealth while pretending to be above it all. They got off on intimidating those around them. It wouldn’t work on me. No amount of wealth could make me forget that this man was as dangerous as they came.

“You have a good eye,” Maksim complimented.

“Thank you.” I turned slightly on my heel. I needed to get out of this room. I didn’t like the idea of being isolated with Maksim. While I didn’t think he would harm me, I didn’t want to take the chance that I was wrong.

“I was hoping that I might run into you tonight,” Maksim said.

“Oh?”

He nodded. “You are legendary in our circles. The woman who got the wild Marco Blanchi to finally settle down.” There was a chuckle in his voice that reminded me of an uncle talking about his favorite nephew. It was odd considering that Marco told me Maksim was one of his family’s greatest enemies. “Quite a feat.”

I shrugged, not sure what else to say or do. “Not really,” I commented. “Marco was ready to settle down.”

The words sounded ridiculous in my own head. Marco was a good husband, but I wasn’t sure if he would have married me if we’d met under different circumstances. It seemed unlikely.


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